The Great and Terrible (Out of Ozland #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Out of Ozland Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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“Monstra?” I cried, racing for cover under a tree as lightning forked overhead.

The others crowded around me, the women pale and shivering. Only Jasher appeared unaffected. Thunder clapped and crashed, reverberating across the land.

“They aren’t headed for us,” he said, dropping the pack at my feet. “Someone in one of the villages outside the forest committed a crime.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Duty calls. I must go.”

I wrapped my arms around my middle. “You’re going to execute an offender.”

His gaze avoided mine. “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”

“You’ve said that before, and I got carted into a trapper camp as the meat du jour.”

“But you were never in danger,” he reminded me. “I was right behind you.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ll return when I can.”

“Be careful,” I said, but he was already gone. So badly I wanted to give chase and shake him. How dare he put himself in danger after I’d just worked so hard to save his life.

With a humph, I claimed the bag and withdrew the blankets from within. Leona draped the first around herself and Patch, leaving me the second. Though thin, the material warmed me up fast. Even better, Jasher’s incredible scent saturated the fabric.

Getting cozy, I sat and got comfortable. The girls lowered, too, and we huddled together as wet winds blustered. I recalled the rain gear. “Bless you, Greta!” I dug inside the pack again, finding the tin. Took some doing, but I figured out how to open the side flap revealing—hmm. Small squares of black cloth.

“Oh! Don’t mind if I do.” Leona pinched a cloth between her fingers and shook it, the material lengthening, producing a hooded poncho type garment.

Nice! Patch and I each claimed a square and mimicked the mayor’s actions. The redhead unfolded a waterproof covering for her shoes. My choice became a hat, and I frowned. It reminded me of a witch’s hat, pointed up top with a wide brim on bottom. Was I not the Dorothy of this tale but…?

No. Absolutely not! I refused to identify with the wicked witch. Mr. West bore the right name and draped himself in green. He was the witch, not me! Scowling, I tossed the hat into the rain.

“You fool!” Patch admonished. She lifted locks of drenched hair. “You missed a perfect barter opportunity. I would’ve loved that hat.”

I glance at the now soaked headgear and winced. Too far to reach without getting soaked. “Apologies.”

Time passed, worry for Jasher increasing. “Thank you for the assists back there, ladies.”

“I did good, didn’t I?” Leona fluffed her hair.

Not the word I would have used, but okay.

“That reminds me. I owe you something, Moriah.” Patch squared her shoulders, as if she were about to face a firing squad. “Thanks for saving me. There. It’s been said. Now we’re even. Let’s talk about turning you into the Guardian. That is what we agreed to, yes?”

“I mean, we’re going to visit with the man, anyway,” Leona piped up. “We might as well cash in.”

“Stop, please,” I deadpanned. “Your love humbles me.”

“What’s up with you and the royal guard?” The redhead wiggled her brows. “Are you in love?”

Leona heaved a sigh.“Prepare yourself for nothing but denials, P.”

“You asked about sex.” But love? I hooked a lock of hair behind my ear. It was an emotion I’d never experienced outside of a family bond. Something I could not, would not, allow myself to feel for a boy I’d known only a handful of days. But I had considered bringing him home with me.

He wasn’t happy with his life here. How could he be? Forced to sign on as a royal guard. To train as a killer. Though he would hate abandoning his brothers, he might welcome the chance to farm.

Except, one of those brothers might be dead beneath my chapel.

The moisture in my mouth dried. “We’re just getting to know each other.” Mostly. “Are you guys dating anyone?”

Patch snorted. “Love ain’t smart. The boy I thought I’d grow up to marry got sold to Mr. South. Haven’t seen him since.”

“Ouch. That sucks.”

“I agree with Patch.” Leona’s shoulders slumped. “Two years after my wedding, my husband was beheaded for stealing to feed me and my sister. He was a good man, and now I have to live without him.”

And I thought I’d needed a break. “That sucks.”

“What about your obsession with, what was his name? Oh yeah. Drogan,” Patch said, as blunt as always.

Leona scowled. “My feelings might have softened toward him a wee bit. Satisfied now? But he was my first ray of hope in locating Claudia. I believe he would’ve kept his word and helped me find her, if I’d only released him. That was my plan for the third lottery.”

I reached out and patted her hand in a show of sympathy.

“Hey, where’d you get the band?” Patch motioned to my mother’s ring, glittering so prettily from my finger.


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